


Dean (confidence)

by kisahawklin



Series: Character Studies [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Character Study, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4225500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisahawklin/pseuds/kisahawklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean realizes he's in love with Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean (confidence)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alpacapanache](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacapanache/gifts), [HeyJessie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeyJessie/gifts).



> I've got two of these so far; I expect there to be a fair number more. This one based on a conversation curiouscorvid and I had a while back, where I basically said, "If Dean ever actually figured out he was in love with Cas, I feel like he'd just go for it." 
> 
> This is also for HeyJessie, who is wonderful and patient and whose encouragement means a lot, especially right now. <3

It's just a Tuesday.

Not a special Tuesday. Not a hunt, not anybody's birthday or the apocalypse or anything. Just Tuesday.

Dean's in the middle of breakfast, sopping up the runny egg yolk with his toast, and it hits him.

He's in love with Cas.

He's just sort of dumbfounded for a long moment. He doesn't move for minutes, only shifting because the toast is halfway to his mouth and he's starting to get some stares from the other patrons of the diner. He puts the toast down because he's not eating anything, oh, _ever again_ based on the way his stomach has turned itself completely inside-out. 

He's always been good at skimming around stuff like this, skirting by it without looking too closely. The whispered remarks, the judgmental eyes, he doesn't care. They don't know anything. 

But this... he knows this. Knows the truth of it in his bones. Cas has been part of their family for a long time, someone Dean'd lay down his life for, no question. Still second in line behind Sam, because everyone is second in line behind Sam, but close. Real close.

And different. 

That's how he figured it out, he thinks. He'd been mentally bitching about Sam, about his fucking vegetable habit. He's at the farmer's market across the way. Dean's sure he'll come back with six bags full of vegetables that Dean can't name and won't know what the hell to do with. And he loves Sam, but Jesus, he is _so annoying_ sometimes. Dean just wants to smack him.

Dean doesn't ever want to smack Cas. Even when he's annoying, not that Dean can remember the last time he thought Cas was annoying. He purposely thinks of all the stupid annoying things about Cas and realizes... there isn't anything. His dumb tax accountant clothes? Amusing. His stupid doofus grin? Adorable. 

Son of a bitch.

Dean pushes his plate away, mourning the loss of the bacon he hadn't even touched yet, and closes his eyes for a minute. He has to think about what to do here. 

He doesn't really know if Cas understands the difference between brotherly love and the kind of love Dean feels for him. Maybe it's all the same to angels. Maybe they can't really love humans. 

Oh, shit.

Maybe they don't like sex.

The bell on the diner's door jingles and Dean's eyes snap open, revealing Sam standing in the doorway, sans grocery bags. They're probably already in the trunk of the car. Sam takes one look at him and stops in his tracks. "Dean?" he asks. "You okay?"

And shit, he is _so_ not okay. But he can't unknow this, and for once, he thinks maybe sharing this with Sam will make it easier. He takes a deep breath, sighs it out, and says, "I'm in love with Cas."

He wishes he had thought to take out his phone because the look on Sam's face is priceless and damn it, Dean should've snapped a picture. Dean's pretty sure it's a fairly good match for the one that was on his own face five minutes ago. "Wow," Sam says, and plops himself down in the booth, pulling Dean's plate over. 

"Yeah," Dean answers, looking down at his coffee and wondering if he can risk it. Sam being here brings the world back to a relatively even keel, and now that the words are out there, the nausea is easing up a little. He picks up his mug, bringing it up to his nose and smelling it first.

"So," Sam says, and Dean's honestly curious to hear what the first words out of Sammy's mouth are going to be. He takes a sip of his coffee and looks his brother in the eye. He can practically see the tickertape of questions running behind Sam's eyes, everything he wants to know. "What brought this on?"

Dean shrugs. "No idea. I was just eating breakfast and then there it was. _I'm in love with Cas._ "

Sam nods stutteringly, like he can't really process how something like that happens. "Uh, okay." He looks down at Dean's stolen plate and pushes it away. Dean knows how he feels. "So now what?"

Dean shrugs again. "Figure out if it goes both ways, I guess."

Sam does the weird, slow nod again, like he can't possibly comprehend what the hell Dean is talking about. "Good luck with that."

~~~

Dean stops just inside the door of the motel room, waiting to hear Cas close the door before he turns on him. They're already closer than Dean usually allows – and Cas is conscientious about following the personal space rules Dean set up early on – so it only takes a half step to put Dean right up in Cas's face, the too-close-for-comfort space Cas used to occupy all the time, like he wanted to fuse them together.

"Dean?" Cas asks. He isn't moving, and he doesn't sound uncomfortable, but the question in his voice is unmistakable.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean says, shifting his weight forward now, bringing himself even closer. His eyes shift down to Cas's lips, and it's familiar, looking there, avoiding Cas's gaze and concentrating somewhere else, but somewhere no less exhilarating. 

"What are you doing?" 

Cas still hasn't moved, not to take himself out of the situation or prevent Dean's forward motion. So far, so good. Dean leans even further forward, his eyes still on Cas's mouth. He's close now, only inches between them. He can feel the warm air of Cas's exhales on his face. 

"Dean?" Cas asks gently, taking a step backward. The door is at his back now, and Dean lifts his eyes to meet Cas's again. Cas doesn't look worried or troubled or concerned with Dean's sudden change of heart about personal space. He's simply gazing at Dean like he wants to be sure Dean is in control of all his faculties. 

Dean smiles a little; it's a fair question – they'd been hunting a skinwalker, after all – so he says, "Yeah, Cas. It's me." Not like Cas wouldn't be able to tell, with his grace and all, but better to say it out loud.

Dean shifts forward a step, his body trapping Cas's against the door. There's less than an inch between their chests. A couple of deep breaths would press them together. Dean leans forward, resting his hands on the door, palms flat against the crappy plywood, blocking Cas in. Cas turns to look at the hand Dean's put right next to his face and Dean can feel things decelerating into slow motion. The more he watches Cas, the more he knows this is going to happen - there's no uncertainty, only anticipation. Cas turns back to meet his eyes, and then Cas's eyes drop to his lips, and Dean can't help a soft smile as he moves in the final few inches, letting himself be pulled in by Cas's natural gravity, the one force in the universe Dean's always been defenseless against. 

The sound of blood rushing in his ears is thunderous, and he's pretty sure time is going to stop altogether before he finally kisses Cas. That would be okay, though, because this moment right here, this is the sweet spot, the very last moment of the way his life used to be. 

"Dean," Cas whispers against his lips, close enough that Dean can feel the movement of them, so close to brushing his own. He thinks maybe Cas sounds a little impatient. 

"Can I kiss you, Cas?" Dean asks, soft. One last exhale, one last frantic thump of his heart.

"I am certain you are capable of it, yes," Cas says, and he almost pulls it off – except Dean is staring at his mouth, and he sees the little downturn of the corners that mean he's keeping a smile in. Dean licks his lower lip, letting it out between his teeth slowly. He watches Cas's mouth, grinning as his lower lip contacts Cas's, just a little, and Cas sucks in a little gasp of air.

"You want to know," Cas says, stuttering to a halt after those few words. Their lips are already touching and every word is like a tease of what they both know is coming. "You want to know if I want you to kiss me." Not quite a question. 

Cas's mouth tightens, momentarily pulling his lips away from Dean's, and Dean has one second of paralyzing fear that Cas isn't with him in this; that Dean's whole body is attuned to Cas, vibrating in anticipation of this first kiss, and Cas is thinking about why they needed grave dirt for the spell that took down the witch last month.

Then Cas breathes, "Yes," and Dean surges forward, his lips on Cas's, his body pressing Cas's into the door.

It's… nice. 

Cas kisses back, sort of going along with wherever Dean takes things. Dean's heart sinks. He was right. Cas isn't interested in this stuff and Dean's going to have to be fucking celibate for the rest of his life. All the anticipation and excitement of the last two minutes drains out of him and he ends this kiss, wondering how he could be so stupid as to fall in love with an angel of the lord. Fucking idiot.

He doesn't meet Cas's eyes. They're going to have to talk about this now, and that is absolutely the _last_ thing he wants to do. He hangs his head, closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a moment of peace before the painful conversation begins.

He hears Cas take a breath to speak and he almost interrupts. Then he decides he's going to have to talk about it anyway, might as well let Cas have first go.

"May I kiss you?" Cas asks, and Dean looks up at him sharply. 

"What the hell do you think we were just doing?"

"You kissed me," Cas explains, as if this makes any kind of sense. "I would like to kiss you."

"Cas, kissing is supposed to be a team sport. We're in it together."

"I see." Cas considers this, nodding. "So may I kiss you?"

Dean rolls his eyes to cover the flutter of butterflies that've returned to his stomach. "Okay," he says, bracing himself for whatever Cas might get up to.

Cas nods solemnly and puts his arms around Dean in the world's most awkward hug. Dean rolls his eyes, annoyed at himself for expecting anything else.

"Oh, right," Dean says, patting Cas's arm just as awkwardly, "tha –"

Suddenly Dean is flipped around like a rag doll and shoved into the door strongly enough for him to expel all his air in a surprised "oof!" Dean's butterflies get violent and he can feel his breath hitch as he waits for Cas to close the distance.

Cas presses their chests together, pinning Dean easily against the door, which is enough to steal Dean's breath for good, but then he slides his hands down Dean's ribcage, over his waist, and down to settle on his hips. Dean can feel his mouth drop open, and instantaneously, Cas's eyes are back on it, and Dean is hard enough to pound nails, just like that.

He's not completely incapacitated, though, so he licks his lips, wetting them unnecessarily, and Cas's reaction is immediate. He lifts Dean up the door by his pelvis, until Dean is looking down into Cas's face, his feet dangling. Dean's entire brain whites out with how this went from embarrassingly tame to hot as the sun in roughly ten seconds.

His legs come up and go around Cas without any conscious thought – who would've guessed that's an automatic reaction – and when Cas releases Dean's hips so he can bring Dean's face down for the kiss, Dean snugs them together, pulling Cas into him, pressing himself into the door with Cas's hips.

When Cas finally kisses him, it's the fireworks he thought would've gone off before. His dick is suddenly pissed off that it's not getting more action and his hands automatically seek out Cas's waist – to get into his pants or up his shirt, or maybe both. 

But Cas is smooth, and he brings a hand down from Dean's face to rest just at the front of Dean's neck, his fingers over Dean's carotids. Dean can feel his heartbeat thumping fast against Cas's thumb. He waits, though not for long, because when Cas finally gets his tongue in Dean's mouth, he explores thoroughly, leaving Dean shivering under the onslaught, his hands clenched in Cas's fucking trench coat.

"Cas," he moans, when Cas shifts to kiss along his jaw and down his neck.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean opens his eyes and looks down at Cas, trying to figure out if he needs to say something. "Nothing," he answers, finally. "I just…"

He just what? He looks down at them, his legs wrapped around Cas, Cas holding him up against the door like he weighs nothing, and fuck, Dean's never been this turned on in his life. "I just…"

Cas quirks one corner of his mouth up, like he knows what Dean isn't saying, and presses Dean back against the door again, straining up to kiss him once, briefly. "You just needed to say my name."

Dean's heart is already beating like a freight train, he doesn't think it can handle any more of Cas being a fucking badass in his direction. He nods. 

"I like it when you say my name," Cas says, and then his voice goes even deeper, commanding, when he adds, "Do it again." 

_Fuck._ "Cas," Dean answers, immediate and slightly breathless. "Castiel."

Cas's eyes meet his, for a moment lit up with grace, and Dean's heart stops. He's fucking in love with a fucking angel of the lord. Jesus. 

"Castiel," he says again, and moans when Cas presses his hips against Dean's, rolling slightly. Dean's going to come in his pants if Cas keeps this up.

Dean's breathing hard, wondering if he keeps saying Cas's name if Cas will keep fucking him into the door, but before he can press his luck, Cas grabs his hips again, bracing him against the door while he settles them just a little, bringing Dean a few inches lower so their eyes meet, and, when Cas leans his whole body into Dean's, so do their lips. 

Dean's mouth is otherwise occupied, but in his mind he's still chanting _Cas, Castiel, my Castiel_ and he thinks Cas might even hear him, because every single time Dean thinks his name, Cas rubs himself against Dean, and Dean seriously might explode before Cas is done with him.

Cas pulls away just long enough to whisper, "Dean," and Dean closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the door, his blood rushing in his ears. He moans Cas's name one more time and comes hard enough to see stars behind his eyelids at the friction in his jeans when Cas rolls his hips again.

"Fuck, Cas," Dean croaks when his breath comes back. 

Cas looks at him curiously. "Is that simply an expletive? Or are you implying we should try something else?"

Dean unhooks his legs from around Cas, attempting to stand on his own two feet and ending up grateful that Cas is still basically pressing him into the wall. "I think we should try _everything_ else," Dean answers. "But maybe not until I can feel my legs again."

Cas smirks and steals a kiss, a lopsided one that catches the corner of Dean's mouth. "I can heal you, if there's something wrong with your legs."

Dean laughs. His boyfriend's an angel of the lord. Fuck, this is gonna be _fun_. "You do that, angel," Dean says. "I've got a thing or two we can try yet tonight."


End file.
